One Little Question
by The Notorious Cat
Summary: As Sara reflects upon one little question she asks herself, she inadvertently realizes maybe her feelings run a little deeper then originally thought. What is the question? ... Meant for Snickers, but in truth could be for SaraAnyone.


Maybe it was something about the way he made her feel. The way that when she saw him, the atmosphere lightened, loads seemed easier, life seemed conquerable.

Maybe it was the way that when he stood next to her while they reviewed results over the break room table, she could smell him. Maybe his scent intoxicated her, or maybe it was the way his hand brushed hers when they exchanged folders.

Maybe it was the way he knew when something was bothering her. Maybe it was the way he'd pull her into his arms after a long shift and just let her talk. Maybe it was the way he'd let himself be vulnerable around her, and then take her out to the diner the next day to thank her. Maybe it was the way that even though she told him he shouldn't, he did.

Maybe it was the way she knew she could always count on him to be there for her. Maybe it was his smile…oh that smile. Maybe…maybe it was the fact that he was the only person in the world that she truly cared about who just happened to care about her too.

Maybe it was because he was the first person she'd connected with upon arriving in Vegas. Maybe it was the way he said her name...softly, full of Southern drawl.

Maybe it was the way she went crazy when he wasn't around, or maybe it was the way she went crazy when he _was._ Maybe it was the jealousy she could feel in the pit of her stomach when another woman flirted with him. Maybe it was the way that she knew if he ever ended up with any other woman, she might not be able to take it.

Maybe it was the way she felt she'd known him his whole life. Maybe it was the way that when they got into an argument about a case, she just wanted to scream at him…and tell him how much she was sorry…how much she loved him.

Maybe it was the way that she never truly told him what she felt. Maybe it was the way he knew her favorite kind of pizza and that she secretly liked Angelina and Brad together. Maybe it was the way he'd try and make her laugh when she was concentrating, or dragged her out of the lab when shift was over.

Maybe it was the fact that he was so damn hot…and she'd never even talked to a guy on his level, not to mention befriend one. Or maybe it was the way he didn't act like he was big man on campus.

Maybe it was the fact that he noticed her. Maybe it was the stupid voicemail messages he left on her phone, or the way he'd call her every now and then to invite her over for a movie.

Maybe it was the way she'd catch herself daydreaming about him…sometimes in an innocent way, sometimes in ways that would make her blush. Maybe it was the way that he would bring her coffee, exactly the way she liked it, set it down in front of her and not wait for a thank you.

Maybe it was all the flirting they'd done over the years…maybe. Or could it be the way they worked together…seamlessly, flawlessly. Maybe it was the way that when he felt nervous, or nervous for _her_ in a public place he would place his hand gently on the small of her back, a reassurance to them both.

Maybe it was the way that when they both believed in something they'd fight so strongly by each others side, or maybe it was the way that when they disagreed they'd argue. Maybe it was the hell they'd suffered and gotten through. Or maybe it was the hell they'd suffered and gotten through _together_.

Maybe it was the locker room banter, or the break room flirting, or the evidence room silence. Maybe it was all those moments she thought he wouldn't make it through, but he did. Maybe it was all the moments she thought _she_ wouldn't make it through but did, and it was only because of him.

Maybe it was the way she'd lay on her bed at night and think of him. About what he was doing, where, and with whom. Or if she was on his mind twenty-four seven like he was on hers.

Maybe, it was the thousands of memories she had with him, and the way they'd pop in her mind at random times. Maybe it was the way she thought of him when country music came on, or the state of Texas was mentioned, or whenever she heard the word sexy.

Maybe it was the fact that this list was so long, or the way she could continue it for hours. Maybe it was the way she had avoided saying the one thing she truly feltthe entire time...

And to think, it had all started with one little question.


End file.
